Don't Open Your Eyes
by Dollhousesareforwhimps
Summary: Souji goes to visit Yosuke while he's sick and bed, and the two end up clarifying a few things. Souji/Yosuke


Response to the simple prompt "Yosuke can't stop sneezing" over at badbadbathhouse. It grew a plot without me! D:

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He really does have the worst luck. He's sure of it. Occasionally he'll wonder if he's done something to deserve it – perhaps involving an umbrella and the inside of his foyer – but he always arrives to the same conclusion in the end: his first name is Yosuke and his last name is Hanamura. That's all the reason life needs to shit all over you, apparently.

I mean, who _else_ spends the first week of summer vacation locked up in their room, with nothing but thousands of used Kleenex and a dehumidifier for company?

Well, and one obstinate best friend. But Yosuke can hardly consider that falling on the good side of luck.

"You really shouldn't be in here," he protests for the thirteenth time (and Yosuke _is_ counting) while Souji makes himself comfortable in his lopsided, mostly beanless, beanbag chair.

"I know that," Souji replies with such easy nonchalance that Yosuke is _sure_ he must practice in front of a mirror. No one is that cool.

"Great," he grumbles, violently pummeling his pillow into a more comfortable shape, "And when you get sick, you can-you can…" He stops and makes a face, although it's only half in dread of what's about to come. The other half is all contortion, squinting, and _pain_ when an embarrassingly high-pitched '_Choo!_' rips through his nose. His hand doesn't reach the tissue box in time.

If Souji's face is suddenly straining to fight the urge to smile, Yosuke is too busy wiping snot from his sleeve to notice.

"You never told me you had such a cute sneeze."

When Yosuke finally looks up, Souji is considerably closer to his futon. It's now that he notices the infuriating half-smile gracing his friend's face and, quite promptly, groans.

"Idiot," he mumbles, right as Souji's cheek settles on his pillow. He's humming --blowing small, irritating puffs of air against the hairs on the back of Yosuke's neck and tickling him awfully as the breaths get closer and closer. Eventually, the air stops and all Yosuke feels is a faint buzz of lips on skin. For reasons he can't pinpoint, the first thing his mind jumps to is how he doesn't recognize the tune Souji is humming, followed closely by the nervous realization that his back (the one his best friend is currently pressing against, and quite snuggly too) is covered in sweat. _Gross_.

"God, you're such an asshole," Yosuke pouts, once he remembers that _yes, you totally should be pissed, stop worrying about whether he's noticing your sweaty back!_ "I should've known you only came over here because you were horny or something."

The humming stops and Yosuke suddenly feels oddly victorious.

"Go find one of your little admirers, because I'm _not_ in the mood," he finishes, punctuating with an elbow to Souji's side. It isn't all that strong a hit – more a nudge, really – but Souji's grip slackens and he pulls away. Once again, Yosuke is struck by a swell of triumph. _That's what you get for expecting me to bend over on command, jerk. Ha!_

Yosuke is expecting some sort of caustic remark, delivered downright _coolly_, as was his friend's wont. Something like, 'Damn, I had hoped I would get some', but much more snappy than that because it's _Souji_ and not the considerably lamer Souji Voice that lives in Yosuke's head (the one that only thinks of witty comebacks about ten hours after the fact).

But no glib comments come, and Yosuke is greeted with only a lingering, hesitant warmth. The kind of warmth Yosuke grew quite intimate with in the month before he and Souji tacked 'with benefits' on the end of their title for one another. Nearly to the point of contact, but never quite reaching it. It was awkward, not to mention more than a little off putting.

Yosuke thought they were long past this.

"Dude?" Yosuke finally asked, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of his friend and instantly wishing he hadn't. Souji's expression was worse than anger. Anger would have still hurt, but at least Yosuke could use it as justification for getting angry _himself_, thus putting off any sort of actual emotions for at least a few hours. No, Souji's face was far from angry. His hair was tousled from where he had been nuzzling Yosuke's neck, revealing the slight crease of his eyebrows that would have normally been hidden by heavy bangs. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a tiny frown; painting the rest of his expression with equal parts thoughtfulness and…hurt?

Almost as if a balloon had been popped inside his chest, all sense of victory rushed out of Yosuke in an instant.

"Do you really think that's why I came?" he asks, catching Yosuke's eyes before he can safely retreat back to staring at the wall. "You think I wanted to…," Souji struggles over the right word a moment, leaving them both in an awkward silence. Yosuke doesn't think he's _ever_ heard Souji pause like that. Especially when talking about something they had, well, _done_. Only twice, maybe, and both times had just been handjobs (and one awkward moment when Souji's finger had hesitantly pressed against Yosuke's ass, just shy of entering him before the other boy squirmed away, never once admitting how good it felt), but that still _counted_, right?

Damnit, why was Souji making this so _weird?_

"I mean, kinda dude," Yosuke starts, cutting his friend off while he's still mid-thought, "You were all…snuggling up to me and stuff."

"Snuggling means I want to fuck you?"

Yosuke cringes, almost as if he's been slapped. Souji had apparently found the word he was looking for.

"No!" he shouts reflexively, only to look adequately sheepish a few moments later, "Well…I mean, yeah, maybe. Why else would you do something like that?"

"I don't know," Souji begins, tone betraying the fact that he _very much does know_. "Maybe because that's what people who are-" he stops, searching once again for the right word. Yosuke keeps his mouth shut this time, "…who are in a _relationship_ do."

They're both quiet after that, with only the whirr of the dehumidifier to break up the silence. Yosuke feels a little queasy, although this is one symptom he _can't_ blame on the cold.

"Relationship?" he finally squeaks out, sounding incredibly small and cracked as a sizable lump joins the frog in his throat. He swallows twice and averts his eyes, suddenly very aware of how red and puffy his face must look, "I mean…I didn't think…"

"It's okay," Souji interrupts (_since when does he do **that**, anyway?_), standing to his feet, "Don't worry about it. I'll let you get your rest."

Briefly, Yosuke is relieved. Souji will leave, he can go back to sleep and forget this ever happened, and then everything will go back to normal. _Really_ normal. No more secret adrenaline fueled kisses after a rough afternoon of channel surfing. No more wrestling matches on Souji's futon that lead to fondling each other through their clothes. No more risk of a, well…_relationship_.

To his surprise, it's that final thought that makes Yosuke jolt out of bed and catch Souji by the ankle just before he walks out of reach.

"What are you doing?" Souji is looking down at him skeptically, which is understandable considering how ridiculous he looks sprawled halfway out of his futon, face scrunching up unattractively before Yosuke can stop it.

"_Choo!_" is all he manages in reply, furiously scrubbing at his bright red nose before trying again, "I-I mean, hold…hold…_choo!_ – damnit – hold on! Don't just walk out like a…_choo!_" Yosuke rubs his nose again, cursing the impulsive plunge from his bed that prompted the fit. By now all of the snot clogging his nostrils had been violently expunged, leaving sneezes that could only be described as _dainty_. Not exactly a winning soundtrack when you're trying to make a pretty goddamn important speech, but with luck like his, Yosuke had gotten used to improvising.

"Don't," he warns, once Souji opens his mouth to speak, "Let me -- _choo!_ -- get through this and _don't_ talk over me, oka-_choo!_"

His friend fell silent once again, regarding him with faint curiosity (and a little amusement, if Yosuke were to look closely).

"I didn't mean it like I – _choo!_ – like I thought you were weird or something, okay? I mean, I like just kinda thought we were on the same page with everything…," he stops, eyes half lidded for a long moment before he opens them again with a look of satisfaction. That triumph lasts all of three seconds before a particularly explosive _CHOO!_ finds its way past his noble defenses. Souji genuinely smiles that time, but sobers quickly once Yosuke regains his composure.

"A-and that doesn't mean the page I thought we were – _choo!_ – on is the page I want to be on, if that makes sense. I mean, I really like you, Souji, and…damnit." Yosuke sighs, looking down at the floor for a moment, letting a shuddering breath flow through him, "This sounds really -- _choo!_ -- stupid and I can't stop -- _choo!_"

At some point in the last few seconds, Souji had shifted positions so he was crouched down beside him, surprising Yosuke when he finally got the courage to look up from his rug.

"Blow," he orders gently, thrusting a new tissue against Yosuke's nose. They match stares for a moment – one indignant, the other insistent – before Yosuke finally does as he's told and Souji deposits the loaded tissue into the wastebasket.

Everything after that happens in silence. Yosuke shifts himself back into the shelter of his blankets, consciously making some extra room. Souji slides in a minute later, gently coaxing his friend into the same position they were in earlier. This time, Yosuke doesn't complain, instead allowing himself to savor the things that he had carelessly overlooked before. The thrum of Souji's thumb over a bare patch of skin on his hip, the oddly intimate threading of fingers through his sweat matted hair, the way their bodies lay flush against each other without pretense.

There was no lust in this equation; only a nice, foreign feeling that both calmed and terrified him. Mostly the latter, at this point, but when Souji pressed another kiss to his shoulder with all the confidence of someone who had been noticing these 'little things' for a long time, Yosuke had to believe the fear wouldn't be there forever.

"You're still an idiot," Yosuke murmured, allowing his eyes to slide shut, "What am I supposed to tell everyone when our fearless leader gets himself stuck in bed for a week?"

In about seventy-two hours, Souji would be huddled next to a growing mountain of tissues, sneezing non-stop while Yosuke informed him that _I warned you thirteen—no, **fourteen** times, dumbass!_ But for now, Souji merely made a contented noise and smiled against the exposed skin of Yosuke's neck.

"Worth it."

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